The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
[Prodigy]
Power raps inside my skull cap like a brick stack, the kid is back
I told y'all niggaz ninety-eight list that
Yo, ninety-nine I piss on rap
Two thousand where your pistols at?
Dunn, we be the men in black fatigue
Thirty-thousand dollar chains that swing
Yo catch me in the street, poppin that bullshit
Catch a fat lip, hoes all over your shit
Bust guns like, nuts all over your bitch
Yo youse a woman, tell me what the fuck you tryin to do when
you're growlin all over the top, you get chewed when
I touch that shit, not only that on the concrete
We splash more niggaz than the wavepool did
Check out my new shit, we blood spill, you still ice grill
Mad cause your clique's shit is homo, the Mobb stay real
You steady playin the field
Nigga you sideline rhyme
Customers complain they can't feel
You cooked up a half-ass meal
It's time for me to catch burn on the wheels of steel
My shit fills, the appetite of the populace
We could do it via satellites and such
And show the world how that ass get bust
Ever since a little youth, I had this lust
to pick up the motherfuckin pen and just rush
like morphine beats, through the wires of the EPS plus
you get penalized, for tryin to rock with the utmost
Get branded, for bein weak the most, now be ghost
The fuck outta here, with that bullshit you tryin to share
with the planet, you need to be shot rappin
I got sickle cell I feel the pain all year, what's happenin
Fake thug wanna front like they contractin
Numbers on my head, Dunn please, I'm here waitin
You can't touch me, there's no fake love amongst me
There's no fake niggaz that's run with me
Somebody gave y'all the wrong info, I ain't the Kiko
You nympho, put me on to where you breathe at
You 'sposed to taught that bitch much better than that
I dwell, where the rest of my vets is at
From, some to 'Ville to BX and back
to the lab and the dungeon
My house of reresentatives stay starvin, beats thumpin
We unholy, cause there ain't a part missin
My commission, sit at the table like the last supper
Fucker.. {*echoes*}
Power raps inside my skull cap like a brick stack, the kid is back
I told y'all niggaz ninety-eight list that
Yo, ninety-nine I piss on rap
Two thousand where your pistols at?
Dunn, we be the men in black fatigue
Thirty-thousand dollar chains that swing
Yo catch me in the street, poppin that bullshit
Catch a fat lip, hoes all over your shit
Bust guns like, nuts all over your bitch
Yo youse a woman, tell me what the fuck you tryin to do when
you're growlin all over the top, you get chewed when
I touch that shit, not only that on the concrete
We splash more niggaz than the wavepool did
Check out my new shit, we blood spill, you still ice grill
Mad cause your clique's shit is homo, the Mobb stay real
You steady playin the field
Nigga you sideline rhyme
Customers complain they can't feel
You cooked up a half-ass meal
It's time for me to catch burn on the wheels of steel
My shit fills, the appetite of the populace
We could do it via satellites and such
And show the world how that ass get bust
Ever since a little youth, I had this lust
to pick up the motherfuckin pen and just rush
like morphine beats, through the wires of the EPS plus
you get penalized, for tryin to rock with the utmost
Get branded, for bein weak the most, now be ghost
The fuck outta here, with that bullshit you tryin to share
with the planet, you need to be shot rappin
I got sickle cell I feel the pain all year, what's happenin
Fake thug wanna front like they contractin
Numbers on my head, Dunn please, I'm here waitin
You can't touch me, there's no fake love amongst me
There's no fake niggaz that's run with me
Somebody gave y'all the wrong info, I ain't the Kiko
You nympho, put me on to where you breathe at
You 'sposed to taught that bitch much better than that
I dwell, where the rest of my vets is at
From, some to 'Ville to BX and back
to the lab and the dungeon
My house of reresentatives stay starvin, beats thumpin
We unholy, cause there ain't a part missin
My commission, sit at the table like the last supper
Fucker.. {*echoes*}
Lyrics submitted by spliphstar
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